Uncovering Secrets: The Third Novel in the Rosemont Series

Home > Fiction > Uncovering Secrets: The Third Novel in the Rosemont Series > Page 18
Uncovering Secrets: The Third Novel in the Rosemont Series Page 18

by Barbara Hinske


  Loretta released the breath she had been holding and smiled at the nurse. “I guess I let my imagination run away with me,” she said sheepishly.

  “Everybody does that in this place, honey,” the nurse replied. “Now go have some fun with your child.”

  Loretta nodded and proceeded down the hall. She paused in the doorway to the children’s lounge and watched the scene unfolding before her. The young man who’d come to Haynes Enterprises—What was his name again? David something—had charge of a midsized dog who was patiently fielding all of the hugs, petting, and even tail-pulling that a passel of sick children could dish out. He moved his head to one side to gently nuzzle an older boy, and Loretta saw that the dog had only one eye. Nicole was crouched next to the dog, with her arm slung across his back, rubbing his left haunch and murmuring, “Nice doggy, good doggy.” Loretta’s heart caught in her throat. Nicole leaned over and ran a line of kisses down the dog’s back.

  Loretta approached the dog’s master. “I’m Loretta Nash. We met at Haynes Enterprises. Nicole is my daughter,” she said, touching Nicole’s shoulder.

  The boy nodded. “I remember. I’m David Wheeler. And this is Dodger.”

  “Hello, Dodger. Aren’t you a wonderful dog?” She turned to David. “How long have you been doing this?”

  “We just got certified last week,” he answered. “Dodger started out as an agility dog, but he was injured and can’t compete for a while. Maybe not ever again. So he became a therapy dog. I think he’s really good at it.”

  “He certainly is. It’s nice for these children to have something fun to break up their day. Television and books can only go so far.”

  David nodded. “I know. I’ve read studies that show that petting an animal relieves stress and promotes healing. We learned about it when we were studying to become a therapy team.”

  Loretta smiled at him.

  “Speaking of fun things for kids, do you know about the Easter carnival at Rosemont next weekend?”

  Loretta narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

  “They had one last year, and this year will be even better. The hospital is putting together a section of games for sick or disabled kids. They’ve asked Dodger and me to come, too. Why don’t you bring Nicole? She’d have a blast.”

  Loretta hesitated an instant too long.

  “Can we, Mommy? I want to,” Nicole lifted bright eyes to her mother.

  “I don’t think we would be welcome there,” Loretta stammered. “Ms. Martin and I aren’t friends.”

  “You don’t have to be friends,” David replied. “It’s for the community. And it’s free, too. They just collect a voluntary donation for the town pension fund.”

  Loretta looked at her daughter’s shining face.

  “How can you refuse?” David asked.

  Loretta nodded. If her kids would have fun, she needed to let them go.

  Loretta turned as the nurse called her name. “The doctor has discharged Nicole. I’ve got her new prescription here to go over with you.”

  Loretta extended her hand to her daughter. “Come on, sweetheart, we’re going home.”

  Nicole shook her head and hugged Dodger around his neck.

  “You can see him at the carnival,” Loretta said.

  “Dodger’s getting tired. We should be leaving soon, anyway,” David broke in and helped Loretta peel Nicole off of Dodger. “We’ll see you next week, at Rosemont.”

  Chapter 45

  Maggie stepped into Celebrations at six o’clock the Saturday morning before Palm Sunday. “Thank you for meeting me so early,” she told Judy Young. “I want to sign off on the wedding invitations and get them ordered before this crazy week starts.”

  “And rightly so. You’re cutting it pretty close for a wedding at the beginning of June.”

  Maggie sighed heavily and signed the form Judy put in front of her.

  “But don’t worry,” Judy assured her. “I’ll get them for you.” She placed the order on the counter behind her. “I’ll have time to send this in before the shop opens at nine. Where are you headed this early on a Saturday morning?”

  “I’m off to the airport. My family’s coming in on the red eye. I’ve borrowed John’s Suburban, with the extra seat, to haul them all to Westbury. I just hope I have enough room for their luggage.”

  “Will they be here through Easter?”

  “Yes. My granddaughters are on their school break and they wanted to come to the Easter carnival—which I have you and the others to thank for organizing and promoting. I haven’t lifted a finger.”

  “I think running this town and planning a wedding is enough, don’t you? You’re hosting the carnival at Rosemont; that’s plenty. We’ve got everything covered. All you need to do is show up.”

  “Good, because that’s all I have time for this week. The girls and I are going to pick out our dresses, attend a cake tasting, finalize the food for the reception, and something else that I’m forgetting … oh … we’re testing makeup for the wedding.”

  “That is a lot,” Judy agreed.

  “I’m not sure I require all of this, but everyone else seems to think so. It’s easier to just go along with it all.”

  “This will be the most talked-about wedding in these parts in more than a decade.” She looked wistfully over Maggie’s shoulder. “A June wedding at Rosemont. It needs to be perfect.”

  “Argh … Don’t you start on me, too.” She checked her watch. “I’d better scoot. If I run into any traffic, I’ll be late.”

  ***

  Forest Smith slowed his pace to a walk, then leaned forward and grabbed his knees to stretch out his back. He’d set out to start running again and his back was protesting mightily. After the accident, he missed this morning routine the most. It cleared his mind, and he always slept well when he ran. He was determined to resume the practice. He patted his jacket pocket and felt the baggie of painkillers that Delgado had given him. Just one tablet would allow him to continue his run.

  Smith wandered to a small stand of trees at the side of the path where he would be hidden in deep shade. He removed one tablet from the baggie and held it between his thumb and forefinger, poised to pop it into his mouth.

  Smith didn’t know how long he remained like this before he dropped the tablet and crushed it beneath the heel of his running shoe. He opened the baggie and did the same with the other pills, then pulled out his cell phone and punched the number for Alex Scanlon.

  Alex answered on the second ring. “Good morning. What’s up?”

  “Sorry to call so early.”

  “Don’t be. I expect you to call anytime you need me, day or night. That’s what my sponsor does for me and what I’m committed to doing for you. What’s going on?”

  “I just got rid of my stash of pills.”

  “Good for you, Forest. What happened?”

  “I went for a run this morning—first time in months. Running is the best stress reliever for me. But I couldn’t make it for more than a quarter mile before my back pain made me stop. I had some pills with me, and I knew one would give me the relief I needed to continue my run. I almost took it. I had it in my hand. But I stopped.”

  “I understand how frustrating it is when your recovery from an injury takes so long that you feel like you’ll never get better, like you’ll never get your life back. I self-medicated myself for months until I realized I was doing more damage to myself.”

  “I know that, intellectually, but it’s hard to put into practice.”

  “That’s why I go to the meetings.” Alex paused. “I thought you said at the meeting that you’d gotten rid of your stash?”

  “I did.” Forest Smith took a deep breath. “That’s the other reason for this call. Chuck Delgado gave me some pills. On the night of the meeting. He was waiting for me when I left that night.”

  The line was silent. “You’d better tell me everything.”

  “Delgado knows I’m an addict; I was buying from his people. He also k
nows I’m assisting on the investigation. He’s attempting to blackmail me. He’ll keep quiet about my addiction and illegal purchases if I destroy anything that would incriminate him or his cronies.”

  “I see,” Alex replied stiffly.

  “He wants to see anything I find that implicates him. I was never going to do it, of course,” he added hastily. “You believe me, don’t you?”

  Alex remained silent.

  “What I planned to do was see what the documents showed and then decide what to do.”

  “Hoping that there wouldn’t be anything, so you wouldn’t have to face this dilemma?”

  “I guess so, yeah.”

  “How likely do you think it is that there won’t be anything in those documents? He’s all but confessed. And what about his attempted blackmail? That’s a crime, too.”

  “I know it is, Alex. Believe me, I know. I’ve been tortured by this whole situation. My first step was to go to the meeting, to get myself clean.”

  “That’s a good first step, Forest. In your shoes, I would have done the same. I’m not trying to come down hard on you. Just thinking about how we should handle this now that Delgado’s made a move.”

  “I have an idea on that, actually. I think we can turn this to our advantage.”

  “Meet me at the office in an hour, and we’ll talk about it there,” Alex replied. “And Forest—you’ve done the right thing.”

  Chapter 46

  Sophie and Sarah bounded onto Maggie’s bed at dawn on Monday morning. She opened one eye as Eve circled in her basket and snuggled back into her blanket. “What are you doing up so early? Are your Mom and Dad awake?”

  “No. Mommy sleeps a lot now that there’s a baby in her tummy,” Sophie said. “And Daddy’s not up yet. But we’re awake so we went to see the kittens.”

  “You did?” she said, brushing the sleep from her eyes.

  Sophie took a deep breath. “We did. But we let them out of the kitchen. We’re sorry, Gramma. We know they’re supposed to stay in there at night. But we opened the door a teensy crack, and they zoomed out of there.”

  “Don’t be mad at us,” Sarah pleaded.

  Maggie smiled and drew them into a hug. “I’m not mad. They move pretty quickly, don’t they? Where are they now?”

  Both girls shook their heads in unison. “We don’t know,” Sarah said. “They went all over the place.”

  “I know how we’ll get them back. We’ll put their food out. Those three are chow hounds.” She threw the covers back and found her robe and slippers. “Come on, Eve—if I’m up, you’re up,” she said to her faithful companion.

  “We’ve got a busy day today,” she said to her twin granddaughters. “Did your parents tell you? We’re going to pick out pretty dresses for all of us to wear at the wedding, and we’re going to choose the flavor of my wedding cake. Will you help pick it out?”

  The girls nodded vigorously. “Go wake your aunt, and let’s get started on our day.”

  ***

  Their first stop was Archer’s Bridal, the only bridal shop in Westbury. Anita Archer sprang from her chair behind the counter when Maggie came through the door. “Mayor Martin. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, pumping Maggie’s hand.

  “This is my daughter, Susan Martin; my daughter-in-law, Amy; and my granddaughters, Sophie and Sarah.” She turned to Anita. “I’m afraid we’re here on short notice. You may have heard that I’m getting married in June.” Anita Archer nodded vigorously. “I need a wedding gown, and Susan and the girls need dresses. They’re in the wedding party.”

  Anita Archer had to restrain herself from clapping her hands in glee.

  “Can you help us with this, or are we cutting things too close? Should we go buy something off the rack?” Maggie asked.

  “Good heavens, no!” the woman replied, indignantly. “You don’t want to do that. I can help you with all of it right here. I’ve got designers that can get your dresses here in time. Do you know what you’d like?”

  Susan pulled a folder out of her large shoulder bag. “We do,” she said, producing a series of photos of brides and bridesmaids.

  “Oh … these are lovely,” the woman replied. “We’ve got things like this in our couture line. They’re a bit pricey. Do you have a budget in mind?”

  The woman held her breath as Maggie uttered Anita Archer’s favorite words in the English language. “Cost doesn’t matter. We’ll go with whatever we like best.”

  This gloomy Monday morning suddenly turned brilliantly sunny for Anita Archer.

  With gowns and dresses selected and ordered, the group moved on to Laura’s Bakery for the scheduled cake tasting at eleven o’clock.

  “I don’t know what I was thinking. Now we’ll never get the twins to eat a decent lunch,” she said to her health-conscious daughter-in-law.

  “Who cares?” Amy replied. “It’s a special day when you can help your grandmother plan her wedding. Besides, my sweet tooth has been on overdrive this entire pregnancy. I want a piece of cake!”

  “Let’s see what Laura has lined up for us,” Maggie said. “Her cakes are all glorious. The hard part will be settling on just one flavor.” Half an hour later, they all agreed—it would be impossible to pick just one. Maggie ordered alternating layers of pink champagne and chocolate-almond, encased in cream-colored fondant decorated with white roses. With the decision made, they stepped across the threshold to Pete’s to grab a quick lunch before venturing to the makeup counter at the trendy salon on the square.

  ***

  Maggie led the expedition to the attic after breakfast Tuesday morning. Susan insisted that “the viewing,” as her family called it, could wait until after they’d ordered their dresses for the wedding. With that detail sewn up, the time had come.

  “Gosh, Gramma,” Sophie said, scanning the attic. “This is huge.”

  “And creepy,” Sarah chimed in, biting her lip. “Do you keep the door locked?”

  “I most certainly do. But there’s nothing to worry about up here except perhaps your overactive imagination,” she reassured her granddaughter. “This is a very friendly attic. I spent an entire day up here, remember? There’s nothing but treasures. And dust.” She looked at Sarah, who shrugged and hid behind her father.

  “The silver’s over there,” Maggie said, pointing to two long tables along the back wall.

  “All of that?” Susan said, pushing a threadbare ottoman out of her way as she surged toward the tables. “Holy cow, Mom. I had no idea.” She surveyed the tables. “This is all so beautiful. There are some very interesting pieces here. I’ve never seen anything like them.”

  “And there’s more in the bank vaults. All the really valuable stuff is there. We’re driving to Ferndale as soon as we finish here. You’re not going to weasel out of going,” Maggie stated in her sternest Mom voice.

  Susan looked over her shoulder at her mother. “I wouldn’t want to ‘weasel out of going.’ Not after seeing all this.”

  Mike stepped forward and took Amy’s hand to help his pregnant wife traverse the littered attic.

  “I’d pictured this in my mind,” Amy said, “but nothing like this.”

  “I want you to take as much of this as you’d like,” Maggie directed.

  “Don’t you want it?” Amy asked.

  “I’ve already removed what I want. I’m going to sell everything you don’t take.” Maggie turned to her granddaughters. “That includes the two of you. I want you to have pieces from Rosemont’s attic, so that you can hand them down to your children one day. And if there’s nothing here you like, you may find something in the bank vault.”

  Susan and Mike stopped culling through the items on the table and looked at each other. Susan nodded at her brother, and he turned to Maggie. “There’s more than enough here, Mom. We want to see the stuff in the bank vault—especially the tea set by that guy whose name I can never remember—but we want you to sell all the really valuable stuff.”

  Maggie nodded. “Th
at’s the most practical approach.” She turned toward the stairs. “Take your time. I’m going to check in with my office, and we’ll set out for Ferndale when you’re done. I’ve labeled boxes with each of your names,” she said, pointing to a stack at the end of one of the tables. “Put anything you want in your box. I can send it to you or keep it here. If you divide up everything on these tables, that’s fine with me. We’ve got a small fortune to sell in the bank vaults.”

  Chapter 47

  Chaos engulfed Rosemont in the days leading up to the carnival, the Saturday before Easter. Maggie couldn’t tell who took more delight in running up and down the stairs—the twins or her new kittens. The weather was sunny and warm. They hiked on the trails by the Shawnee River and went for ice cream in town. Eve and Roman were included in everything.

  Joe Appleby and his crew mowed and trimmed the lawn. Deliveries of supplies for the carnival arrived with increasing frequency and were stored on the back patio. Maggie marveled at the efficiency with which everything was coming together.

  She had scheduled the entire week as vacation, but needed to go into Town Hall on Thursday afternoon. She packed off her family for a day at the nearby science museum and set out for Town Hall on foot.

  The trees surrounding the square were in bud, circling the gray stone courthouse in a band of vibrant green. Spring bulbs of hyacinth, tulip, and daffodil made their joyous presence known in scattered clusters on the lawn. Maggie breathed deeply and paused to survey the scene in front of her: the businesses lining the square, their bright awnings and inviting signs; a hulking man walking a trio of miniature Yorkshire terriers; and an older couple sitting close on a park bench, pointing to something in the newspaper they held between them. To think she’d almost thrown in the towel on helping this wonderful town and these kind and gentle people restore their financial safety and security. She glanced at the sky. Help me get this right, she implored before resuming her walk to her office.

 

‹ Prev